


The Peace Offering

by NocturnalNordic



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Bonding, Conflicting Feelings, F/M, Friendship to more?, Peace Offering, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 19:12:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4972942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NocturnalNordic/pseuds/NocturnalNordic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaime and Brienne spend a month on the road with Steelshanks Walton and his men. At some point, it becomes clear Brienne needs a bath, and there is a stream nearby.</p><p>Summaries aren't my thing so I used the prompt I got for it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Peace Offering

**Author's Note:**

> A HUGE thank you to the ones at the J/B Board for putting up with me during my first try at this pairing, I know I have probably been a pain sometimes :D 
> 
> To IkkiM for getting me out of fic retirement, and giving me the prompt! Hope I didn't completely screw it up haha.
> 
> and to JustAGirl24 for betaing this for me!

Having ridden harder than they should have out of Harrenhal three weeks earlier, he was beginning to feel it in his bones now. While their pace might not have been hard now, the first few days certainly were. Captain Walton, as he called himself, intended to put as much distance as possible between them and Locke and his companions, as he didn't really trust the man to keep to their liege lord’s orders for very long, and he really wanted to get Jaime back to his father in King’s Landing.

Jaime knew why he wanted to get him there so badly--the same reason he turned back to Harrenhal in the first place, the same reason he shot at the bear in the pit to keep him alive--so he could earn his reward in gold. Jaime wasn’t bothered by the man’s motives, as long as it got him what he wanted, and it certainly did this time. Everyone knew a Lannister always paid his debts, after all.

Now as they slowed down the pace, they were looking for a place to put up camp for the night. He looked over to the wench. He still couldn't believe he blackmailed a man to run back and save her, and it was clear she needed rest as much as he did. Pulling on the reins of his gentle palfrey, he eased up next to her and gave her a grin.

“You know, wench, you have been awfully quiet these past few days. Is something amiss, other than being with this lovely company?”

Brienne didn't even look over at him as he spoke to her, sitting in the saddle in the now torn pink dress she was forced to wear back at Harrenhal for near two weeks, with only a cloak to cover herself with during that period of time, and then finally being allowed as she saw it to get some decent clothes on after they came over a raided cottars hut that had left a lot of clothes behind. Her wound had been seen to by a maester or whatever he was, but in all honesty it needed to be washed out properly, and she needed a bath as well. The clothes she wore smelled bad but they were better than a torn dress, and the smell was not made better by their journey, where she was made to sleep in the same clothing all the time. Not that she minded, of course. She just liked to wash them every now and then, but she had not been able to wash for over a month. She knew she just reeked.

“Nothing is amiss, Ser Jaime, and my name is Brienne. I can tell you would like to stop soon, it can't be easy for you to keep up so long after that hard march Walton had us do three weeks ago. Qyburn wouldn't stop glaring at him when we stopped the first evening, and you nearly collapsed.”

Nodding, he remembered that first evening, how he had managed to get off the horse but not much else other than being helped over to the fire they were setting up. “Oh I remember. Not my finest hour.”

Brienne eyed him up as he said the last part and tried to bite her tongue, but couldn't help herself. “Are you saying you've had any good ones in the past year?” 

Jaime was taken slightly aback by her comment, but he was also impressed by it. The wench could reply with the best of them. So she wanted to play, did she? Well, he could play as well. _No harm in bantering some_ , he thought, to help them keep in the saddle until they could find a suitable campsite. “You know, someone that smells as badly as you do, shouldn't comment on another’s failure to match up,” he replied.

Looking at her, Jaime waited for her response, but what he got was a hurt look in her eyes that disappeared as quickly as it came. She huffed and pulled at the reins to her horse, kicking it gently in the flanks before riding away from him, leaving him in silence and cursing his own tongue.

A little while later, they came across a suitable campsite for the night. By the sounds of it, there was also a river not far from there, where they could water the horses and maybe he could get back in the good graces of a certain tall wench. When Jaime had started to care about that, he didn't know. He dismounted as they stopped near a patch of trees for cover, leaning against his mare before he looked over at her. She was stealing looks over at him as well, which hopefully meant that she wasn't too angry with him and would take him up on an offer for a wash with soap and not just water, when the men had brought back water to the horses and they could be in private in the river.

As Jaime fished out the bar of soap he had requested from Harrenhal when he left, Brienne was fussing with her own thoughts as she bedded down her horse, stealing careful glances over at Jaime as she did so. She was still wondering why he came back for her, dreading having to sleep another night in her rank clothes, especially after the words he threw at her not so long ago. She had instigated it, but she didn't think it would hurt so much coming from him. She was used to insults being hurled her way, snide comments about her size and appearance. Seven hells, Jaime even started it when they met and she was less bothered by it then. Why did it sting more now than it did before?

Shaking her head out of her stupid thoughts, Brienne set out to finish getting her horse ready for the night as the men were coming back with water from the river. She needed to go hobble it with the others so it wouldn't wander off in the night. When Brienne finished she took the reins and headed over to the other horses, which were already hobbled.

Jaime finally fished up everything he would need. He placed it on the side and took to the task of bedding down his own horse for the night. One of the men probably have done it for him, but he couldn't rely on others all his life. He had to learn how to do this with one arm eventually. After a long time, he finally had it all off and then let one of the men take the horse, gathering up his things. Jaime went over to where he had seen the wench previously, but she was nowhere to be seen--not with her bedroll, nor with the fire. Knowing where she must be then, Jaime took his things with him. He just sent a look to Qyburn that he would have to change his bandages after his wash, and he set off to find the wench.

After tracking up the river, Jaime found Brienne, who was standing waist deep in the ford washing herself with only water, her clothes on the riverbank. Jaime couldn't keep his eyes off of her, the way her muscles moved under her skin. Her back was as near to flawless as he’d ever seen on any woman, and he found himself reacting to her it in ways he never thought he would to another woman. He had seen her naked before, but he was halfway delirious then and so very tired. Now, however…

Walking down to the riverbank as noisily as he could, he called out to her. “Ho wench, is there room for one more in that river? I got actual soap so we can both wash away our stink. It would work better than just the water you're using. Call it a peace offering?” 

When Brienne looked over at him, she didn't look startled. She only regarded him and nodded, like she had known he had been there all along. Maybe she had. Being a woman in a camp with men, Jaime supposed she must have learned to develop a sixth sense when bathing or washing. She might not have been startled, but he was startled when she spoke as he started to undress slowly, her head turned back again.

“And by the way, Ser Jaime, my name is _still_ Brienne.”

All Jaime could do was chuckle. He loved how feisty she was. Her name might be Brienne, but to him, she would always be his wench. Not that he would ever tell her that

**Author's Note:**

> Comments or kudos are love after all :D


End file.
